Sleep filled nights
by Sophia Banks
Summary: An alternate version of my story "Sleepless Nights" where Mycroft is only pretending to be sleep deprived. It'll make more sense when you read it believe me! X) Brotherly type love, and lying.


Mycroft Holmes was going to pretend he had not slept in oh say…Five days? He was going to arrive at Sherlock's flat, and pretend that he was delirious from lack of sleep and food. And he was going to find out if Sherlock actually cared.  
It was becoming increasingly apparent to the eldest Holmes brother just how aggravated Sherlock was whenever Mycroft came by and the insults and the jokes were getting on his nerves as well.  
He wanted to know, his entire life he didn't know for heaven's sake!  
He left his rather large mansion after preparing himself to look convincingly like he had been sleepless. He was lucky that at the time he became anxious about this matter, Sophia was in America! She would get a bit curious certainly, the young girl could read him almost like a book. Or at least like the inside flap!  
He stepped into an expensive black car and tapped the ceiling, deciding that talking was not something he wanted to do at the moment.  
Soon they were driving towards 221B.

Mycroft found that he was in the perfect position! Sherlock was not at home, and John was asleep! He rested himself lopsidedly on one of the chairs; he let his mouth hang open ever so slightly…Perfect.  
It was about half an hour before Sherlock returned, Mycroft saw him throw his scarf across the room before the younger Holmes' eyes widened, "Mycroft, what do you want?" he questioned, and Mycroft saw his hand hover near his violin. Time to act!  
Out of principal if Sherlock was a good actor Mycroft was a better one, and he was good! But the type of acting he did was more a schmoozing thing for his underlings and overlords. He was out of practice for being a weakling!  
"I want you to stop it," he said sullenly, perfect, confuse him! He caught himself just before giving a small smile of satisfaction for his success, "Oh?" Sherlock answered dumbly.  
Mycroft couldn't keep the scathing tone from his voice, "Yeah, you know... Cease, desist, all those big words."  
He turned his head just enough to see Sherlock's eyes moving rapidly over his form, deducing his state. After a few seconds he replied, "Stop what exactly?"  
"Killing yourself," he said, having prepared for the question. He felt the truth of those words riddle through him, he had dreamt many times of Sherlock's death…The helplessness he felt was what fueled this meeting. "What are you talking about? As you can see I'm still alive!"  
Ah, he still didn't get it. Mycroft shifted his position slightly, "Not in real life you idiot!" he shouted standing up he began to pace, a clear sign of restlessness. Mycroft felt slightly unhappy with the way that was phrased, but there was no taking it back now. He had not once called his brother stupid, or an idiot or a freak! Because he knew they were all lies.  
"In my dreams! Every blasted night you keep dying!" he continued. He saw Sherlock look bewildered, and then recognition came to his sharp features. There was a blessed silence as Sherlock seemed to think about the situation, "How long exactly has this been going on?" he questioned.  
"Four, five days, six in a few minutes..." his voice trailed off.  
The surprise, fear and even worry in his younger brother's face were enough to make him shudder. The sudden emotion was what he had hoped for but he didn't like seeing it!  
He decided to venture further, he allowed his legs to collapse underneath him when suddenly Sherlock grabbed his arm and lifted him up. He was placed back into a chair, Sherlock still looking uneasy he continued, "I don't even know why!" he allowed his voice to raise, "Why I'm having such terrible reactions to this lack of sleep, or why just why one earth are you-? Oh, Sherlock I'm so tired!" he gave a slight sob, time to show some emotion of his own!  
Sherlock was thinking again, that much was clear. Mycroft waited, allowing  
tears to form in his eyes giving his best desperate face.  
"There, there," finally the younger Holmes gave his best comforting voice, it made Mycroft want to laugh! "Oh, shut up," he said tersely. He softened slightly, noticing his younger brother get a little bit prickly, "Sorry Sherlock," he continued truthfully, "But why won't you let me sleep?" he sobbed further. Suddenly Sherlock was at his level, "Look," he said putting his fingertips on Mycroft's shoulder, which sent tingles down the elder Holmes' spine, "I'm sorry, I won't die," he said sounding more comforting then before, "I'm not going to because you're protecting me remember?" he offered.  
Mycroft decided enough was enough, he had to end this! He felt those words tug at his heart, because they were words he longed to hear for so long! "Right," he mumbled, "Good, right, yeah," he leaned backwards in his chair his eyes closing as he pretended to relax into a long awaited sleep.  
He felt Sherlock's cold hands through his suit as Sherlock began to lift him to his feet. He realized that he was being moved to the couch, "I don't remember you being this heavy since the last time I did this," Sherlock mumbled.  
Mycroft didn't much care for that, it had him thinking of a point in his childhood. He couldn't fight the memories that were flooding back, though they were unwanted.

_"Sherlock get down!"_

_"And why on earth would I want to do that?" Sherlock replied having seated himself firmly on a large branch. Mycroft sighed, looking disdainfully at his surroundings, "Mummy will be cross and it's my fault of course," he said coolly, might as well go for honesty.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Wouldn't want mummy to be cross with you now would we?"  
"No, I wouldn't."  
Mycroft was no fun to argue with.  
Sherlock stood up onto the branch, "I could fall and break my leg! That would definitely get you in trouble!" he said. Mycroft put two fingers to his temples, "That would be by far the stupidest thing you would have ever- Sherlock!"  
Sherlock had leapt off the tree of course, just to spite Mycroft most likely. Or maybe he was just testing to see if he *could* break his leg from that height.  
All Mycroft knew is that he had to catch him!  
*Whoomp*  
"What did you do that for?" Sherlock questioned, he had successfully fallen into Mycroft's open arms but the eldest Holmes was nearly flattened under the sudden weight. (Sherlock wasn't that heavy but he fell from a tree!) His leg twisted underneath him and though it didn't break it was definitely injured, "I didn't want to get in trouble," Mycroft joked as Sherlock stood up, "Oh I see," Sherlock said in a hopeful continuation of humor, "You did this so you would have an excuse to laze around all day," he said reaching down so Mycroft could stand. The eldest Holmes felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, "Good plan wasn't it? Though I would have preferred something with less pain," he winced.  
"Can you walk?" Sherlock asked crossing his arms looking pleased with his brother's discomfort. Mycroft leaned against a tree trunk and stood up, taking a cautious step he sucked in air through his teeth, "I could," he said, "But I wouldn't enjoy it!" he said through suddenly clenched teeth.  
Sherlock considered letting his brother do just that for being annoying. But he decided against it, in case that brought repercussions later. "*Sigh* Here," he grumbled grabbing Mycroft's arm and slinging it over his shoulder, "Thank you kindly," Mycroft said lightly, a smirk playing on his features, "Oh, Shut up."_

Mycroft was set onto the couch, he gave a soft groan and lifted his head as though he was trying to fight sleep. Then he curled himself into the most comfortable sleeping position he could and began to slow his breathing. Hopefully Sherlock would leave to get some rest of his own.  
He was surprised to feel Sherlock's coat drape over him, he gave a soft smile feeling rather uncomfortable on a couch but warm.  
"Goodnight dear brother," he heard Sherlock mumble before the sound of his younger brother going upstairs he relaxed.  
"Goodnight Sherlock," he mumbled in reply, before deciding to get some actual sleep.

(The next morning)

Mycroft awoke on the couch…The couch! Oh how he hated sleeping on furniture you were not intended to sleep on, he felt completely stiff.  
He sat up feeling Sherlock's trench coat slip off of his (surprisingly) slim form, when Sherlock came downstairs, "I see you've finally awaken," he said smugly.  
"So I have, I don't suppose I was very dignified last night was I?" Mycroft said running his fingers through his dark hair.  
"You started crying."  
Mycroft pretended to be aghast at the very idea, "Really?" he asked, providing ammunition for Sherlock to keep talking, "Like a girl," Sherlock concluded.  
"Reminds me of when you were little and mummy said that you becoming a pirate was impossible," the eldest brother said smiling lightly, deciding to fight back playfully.  
Sherlock made a sour expression, "I had deleted that memory," he said tersely, "No you hadn't."  
Things went on like this for a while until a disheveled morning John came down the stairs, he didn't seem surprised that Sherlock was awake already but the sight of the British Government on his couch probably surprised him a bit, "Morning Sherlock…Mycroft?"  
"Did um, did I miss something?"  
Mycroft gave Sherlock a pointed glare in case he had been thinking of telling John about the whole "crying" thing, Luckily Sherlock was in a good mood, "Stopped by to give me a case," he said in a convincing cold tone, though the lie was a bit rough. Mycroft stood up going along with it, "Fine, if you refuse to see reason," he said, "Then I shall drop it on one of my underlings, just pretend this meeting never happened," he said, it was a bit off to be hiding the truth that wasn't the truth in his words. But it was necessary!  
"Oh yes," Sherlock said, his eyes narrowed as he nodded in agreement.  
John sighed tiredly, "Right," he said, obviously stuck for an answer to just what was going on, "Nice to see you again Mycroft, sorry," he apologized for Sherlock, which Mycroft deemed unnecessary.  
"Same to you John, I will return later to perhaps coax my brother further, but for right now I have a lot of work I must catch up on," he said talking more to Sherlock then to John once again hiding untrue meaning in his words. He gave a prize winning smile before leaving, best not stretch this out longer then he had to.

He called a car, which had been waiting around the corner (they often did that to ensure that he could run if worst came to worst)  
He sat in the back with a sigh, "Where to sir?" the driver asked with a faint yawn, Mycroft thought for a moment, "Take me to some café," he said, thinking it best to eat. And he didn't want to go to the one outside Baker Street certainly!  
"Yes sir."  
Mycroft sighed as the car moved, a small smug smile creeping up on him.  
So Sherlock did care.

**I don't know, I think I prefer the original. What do you think?  
If you haven't read the first one I recommend doing so, so I can get your opinions!**

**Please review!**


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